Winter ascent of Colden via the Trap Dike

Jan 15, 2011

Rob, Andy and I woke up in the Cascade Inn slightly before 05:00 and ate a quick breakfast in the motel room. Loaded the car and drove the 15 minutes to the trailhead at Heart Lake. It was cool (about -15) and clear as we set out under headlamps, the walk under the stars quite peacefull. On our way into Marcy Dam we passed about half a dozen people hiking out. Must have been a cold night of camping to be packed up and heading out so early in the morning. The sun had risen by the time we got to the dam and we could see Colden beconning in the distance. Another hour over packed trail and we arrived at Avalanche Lake. We crossed the lake and took a look at the slide above prior to beginning the climb up the dike. The slide was mostly bare, which eliminated concerns of avalanche risk so the go decision was made easily. We started up the dike on snowshoes. The snow was deep unconsolidated fluff, so it was quite a slog to the base of the first ice pitch. We changed out of our snowshoes, donned crampons, and roped up. Andy led the pitch and then set up an anchor to belay Rob and I up. I went up second and somehow dropped a quickdraw while cleaning the protection up the route. Fortunately Rob saw it and retrieved it on his ascent. A woman (Helen) had arrived while I was climbing and then quickly climbed up solo once Rob had arrived at the top. We offered to let her go ahead, but she said she would be quite content to follow in our wake. We slogged through the snow to the second pitch. The snow was often over our heads so progress was very slow going. At the second ice pitch we let Helen go ahead and then Andy led again. Rob seconded this time and I took the rear. The ice climbing was fairly straight forward, and these parts were actually quite a bit easier in the winter than they were in the summer. The easy part was now over though. Helen had probably travelled about 50 meters farther up the dike while we farted around with the rope, and we quickly caught up to her in her snowy wake. We took turns leading the snow slog, which involved using the axes as swords to cut out fluffy chunks of snow, and then push the snow out of the path. Many times a snowblower would have been useful, but alas we had forgotten to include this vital piece of equipment when assembling our gear. As we neared the exit point of the dike, I steamed ahead, got onto the slab with a little bit of difficulty and motored up to a flat spot, thinking all the time that the three others were close behind me. This was a really stupid move though, because now I was up out of sight and hearing of the others, could not climb back down, had no rope, and was exposed to the wind and now blowing snow. It took the others a long time to catch up. While I was waiting, I was getting somewhat scared and wandered around some of the safer areas trying to see them and find out what was happening below. At one point I was torn, between making a tricky and dangerous descent back into the dike, or simply climbing upwards and onwards hoping that they were ok, as standing around on the slide was beginning to make me hypothermic. Fortunately before I had to make either decision, Helen appeared out of the blowing snow, climbing up the slab with both axes flying, dragging up a rope. I set up an anchor on a convenient tree and then tied with her, finally belaying up Rob and Andy. Re-united we continued on up the slab. Going was slow but not too bad. We stuck close to the trees as there was some snow there which was easier to walk on then the icy rock. A couple times we discussed roping up and doing a running belay, but decided in the end to just climb unroped. At one point we saw someone far below us on the slab climbing up with skis on their pack. We never saw that person again, so either they went back down, passed us in the fog, or fell to their doom. Hopefully not the last option. Most of the time we could only see about 50 feet as it was now snowing hard, very windy, and cold. At one point I thought I could make out the silohet of the summit rock about 50 meters above with someone standing next to it. I even thought I saw the flash of a camera up there. Visibility quickly dimished though and I wondered if I was imagining things. Nevertheless, a little bit higher and the summit rock became clear. No one else was around at this point though. A somewhat sketchy traverse brought me to a safe point about 5 meters below the summit with an easy route up from there. I set up an anchor and belayed Rob and Helen across this part. Everyone ran up to the summit and I joined them once I had torn down the anchor. We quickly took summit photos, coiled up Helen's rope, and then got off the summit a little ways to a sheltered spot to have lunch. After we had eaten, and suited back into snowshoes, Helen sped ahead and that was the last we saw of her. The going was quick, now that we were on a snowy trail. At one point the trail broke out above tree-line and we lost the trail in the blowing snow. Spent some time finding it again, and then head off down it... in the wrong direction. Fortunately we noticed this and had not gone too far before we turned around again. We found Helen's tracks, very faint now as the snow was filling them in, and continued down the trail fairly easily now. Nevertheless, even though we were tired, we did not stop to break as we wanted to regain a main trail before darkness set in. We made it the Lake Arnold trail just in time. A quick food and water break here, then a two hour hike out in the dark ensued with visions of beer and burgers danced in our heads. Made it to the trailhead thirteen hours after starting. Checked the register and saw that Helen had signed out with a smiley. Andy reported the dike conditions to the info center and then we went out for beer and burgers at the Tip-a-Canoe.

Cold start in the dark.